April smiles and her eyes sparkle in the waning sunlight. While the blonde lady is taller and reminds me of the models I met while shooting sponsorship deals, Chance’s girlfriend has a quiet type of beauty that’s just as breathtaking.
Rebel glances down at her cell phone and frowns. “Riley isn’t answering her texts. How are we supposed to find her in this crowd?”
When I hear ‘Riley’, my ears perk up. The name is pretty common, so I don’t assume that it’s Chris’s little sister. The last I heard, the little munchkin was halfway across the country fixing planes.
“Let me try calling her,” April says.
“You ready for the rollouts next week?” Chance asks me while his girlfriend steps away.
“Yeah, I’m hoping that I see my name on the list.”
“You’re a skilled player, Campbell. Max would be crazy to let you go this early in the rounds.”
His encouragement should make me feel better, but it only makes me more anxious. I’ve had a long, hard road to recovery.
But the road back to hockey seems twice as long.
April returns to her boyfriend’s side, a worried line in the middle of her forehead. “She’s not answering my calls either.”
Rebel tilts her head to the side. “I texted her to meet us at the food court. If we stay in one place, she’ll hopefully see the text and meet us there.”
“That’s a good plan,” Gunner says, giving his girlfriend an admiring look.
“Well, yeah. It’sme.” Rebel smirks up at him.
“Let’s get some food. I’m starving,” Chance says, offering his hand to April.
April holds on to him and glances at me. “We’ll be at the food court if you change your mind, Nathan. Chance’s treat.”
“Got it,” I say with a wave.
I have no intentions of joining their table and becoming the fifth wheel. Those two, loving couples would make me feel single as a Pringle.
Slipping a hand in my pocket, I join the stream of the crowd and let it carry me along. My aimless steps take me to the game section. Booths decorated with balloons and bright neon lights fill an entire pathway. Giant teddybears sit on prize boxes, waiting to be claimed and taken home.
“I want that one!” A little girl, about five years old, is standing by a booth with an older boy.
“I don’t have that many points, Jojo,” the boy says, looking like he’s reached the last of his patience.
“But I want the big bear,” the little girl protests. Her adorable pout is joined by a firm stomp of her leg.
For some reason, I see my best friend’s little sister in the child’s petulant face. Riley was always begging to tag along with us. And when we gave her the chance, she wasn’t quiet or grateful to be there. Her demanding ways would make a queen blush.
The little brat.
I walk forward, ready to intervene and offer to win the big teddybear on the siblings’ behalf. But the gamekeeper brings a tiny stuffed bear over to the children and the brother gives it to the girl.
“See, Jojo? This is the baby bear. The mama bear wants you to take care of her.”
Jojo’s eyes turn as round as saucers. “Really?”
The brother nods.
The little girl squeals loudly and hugs the baby bear to her chest. “I’ll protect her. I promise.”
As the siblings walk off, I tip my invisible hat to the older brother. Chris wasn’tthatgood of a sibling back then. Maybe that’s why he and Riley fell out of touch for so many years.
The roar of an engine tugs me out of my thoughts, and I notice an outdoor go-cart race up ahead. It looks exciting so I decide to walk that way.
